He blames complacency, built over the years when horse racing held a monopoly on legalized gambling in most states. But Rosenberg says that people like Plank, who see the world in terms of stories, can bring the public back.
For all of his bold wishes, Plank is leery of being seen as a rich guy dabbling in racing as a self-glorifying hobby. He and Mullikin haven't run out and dropped millions on a troop of glamorous racers. They have bought a few horses at yearling auctions but have focused more on assembling a solid corps of broodmares that can be bred to Kentucky stallions. There are 13 horses on the farm.
"It is a tough game, and we want to do it the right way," Mullikin says. "The last thing you want to do is pound your chest and then get whopped. We don't want to be a flash in the pan."
A filly named Bourbon Maid gave Plank's stable its first win at Laurel Park in late 2007, and Mullikin has high hopes for a three-year-old filly, Shared Account. But so far, the longtime friends have not found the super horse that could be a lead character in their hoped-for narrative.
"He has hired people who are low-profile and have a lot of experience in finding good athletes," Litz says of Plank's plan for his stable. "I hope he has success. But anyone who knows horses and knows breeding knows that it can take a long, long time, no matter how much wherewithal you have."
Horsemen are skeptical of big-money players who believe they can build racing empires overnight, Rosenberg says. He compares building a stable to assembling a collection of fine art. All of the pieces simply are not available at once.
"But when you take one step at a time and move methodically, you can garner a lot of respect in the industry," he says.
For an impatient guy like Plank, who hit it big in business before he turned 30, the sport can be humbling.
"It's not as easy as the guy who puts the most money in wins," he says. "I'm not a patient guy ... at all. You have to enjoy it, though. This is not my profession. I entered this as a business that would make me happy."
Plank, who is married with two young children, can take his kids out on the weekend and walk to a secluded spot on the farm where two streams meet, and the hustle and bustle of downtown Baltimore seem a lot farther than 17 miles away. At such moments, life seems just about perfect.
In the big picture, Plank believes he's the perfect guy to dream of reinvigorating Maryland racing. In telling the story of Under Armour, he often says, "I was fortunate enough to be smart enough to be naive enough not to know what I couldn't accomplish."
He brings to racing the same refusal to see limits. Of his thoroughbred ambitions, he says, "We got a chance. The ticket is in our pocket, and the race isn't over yet."
